


Tony Stark, Instagramming Menace

by Sadisticsparkle (sadisticsparkle)



Category: Marvel Adventures: Avengers
Genre: Fluff, Identity Porn, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Oblivious Tony Stark, POV Tony Stark, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 18:15:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16164251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadisticsparkle/pseuds/Sadisticsparkle
Summary: After Karl the Ex-Con Intern gets into a Twitter war with other scientists with a half-baked conspiracy theory about pigeons, vampires, vampire-pigeons, aliens and the Golden Gate Bridge, Tony Stark has to take matters into his own hands.It's grueling work but at least he has the help of Steve's Twitter Intern! Because surely Captain America doesn't have the time to handle his own social media, right?(Spoilers: he does.)





	Tony Stark, Instagramming Menace

**Author's Note:**

> Let's pretend Tony could've taken that coffee picture, okay?
> 
> Thanks to wynnesome for the beta!

Tony loved having breakfast at the Mansion. It was organized chaos, sure, but it was a cozier kind of organized chaos than, for example, taking the subway during rush hour. Not that he had ever taken the subway, but Spider-Man assured him that it was a sticky situation. Tony was inclined to believe him because Spider-Man was an expert in stickiness and related gross matters.

However, Tony really wanted to know why Spider-Man took the subway, anyway, considering that flying and/or swinging was a more efficient method of commuting. He would have to ask him, sometime.

Point was – breakfast was fun. It was also delicious and, according to Steve, healthy and full of nutritional value. Tony didn’t really care – all he cared about was getting to stare at a fresh off-the-shower Steve, with his hair being the right amount of wavy and his shirts tight and crisp. It didn’t matter if he stared, not at that hour – he could simply blame it on too little sleep and nobody suspected a thing. Or at least he hoped nobody did.

That particular morning, he very consciously was abusing the privilege. Steve looked perfect– like all mornings, yes, but there was something better that day, maybe the sun coming in through the window, maybe the smell of pancakes, maybe Tony’s crush growing even bigger.

If that was even possible. Was it? He already was pathetically, ridiculously, hopelessly in love with Steve. He had caught himself scribbling ‘Mr. Tony Stark-Rogers’ on the back of a notebook just a few days ago. He had written his surname first because it was already a trademark and it was part of his whole marketing scheme. Branding was important for his company and his company funded the Avengers. He was sure Steve would understand, in the alternate universe where Steve wasn’t painfully uninterested.

He sighed and stabbed one of the pancakes. It looked fluffy and enticing, like Steve’s golden hair.

‘I don’t think pancakes are health food, Steve.’

‘They can be if you use the right flour and avoid adding too much sugar,’ Steve said, between eating his fourth and fifth pancake. Tony was counting.

‘And too many eggs. And too much butter. And, you know, avoid drenching them in maple syrup.’

Logan smiled, a smile full of half-eaten pancake and syrup. His pancakes looked like a battlefield. ‘I’m a growing boy.’

‘Hey, that’s my excuse!’

Growing. Tony raised an eyebrow at the staggering pile of pancakes Spidey was trying to ingest. They were half as tall as him.

‘Well, then I’m Canadian and it’s patriotic duty,’ Logan replied with a glint in his eyes usually reserved for people who questioned his taste in beer.

‘No questioning that. But I’m glad Captain America eased on the granola and gave us a proper breakfast,’ Tony said.

Steve laughed, flushing a little. ‘Don’t you remember? You wanted pancakes last night. Told me you were going to buy an IHOP or something. So I promised to cook them for you if you’d just go to sleep.’

He tilted his head. ‘Uh.’

‘Didn’t remember, eh?’

‘Not at all. You could’ve just ignored that promise. I wouldn’t even notice.’

‘I have to keep my word. And you know…’

Steve fell silent. Spidey was staring at his pancakes, Logan was rolling his eyes and both Ororo and Jan were pointedly looking at the walls. He felt like he was missing something.

‘And I know what…?’

‘It’s okay. I wanted pancakes anyway.’

Steve smiled and Tony wanted to grab a sitting chair, lean back and bask in Steve’s sunniness for the rest of the day. But that wasn’t going to be possible, not with his schedule being as packed as it was. To make things worse, none of the meetings he had for that day was going to be any interesting. Not even an R&D meeting where he could talk with engineers, no. Just meetings with HR and PR and all the departments he knew were crucial but, on a sunny morning, didn’t really compare to pancakes with friends.

With effort, he stood up and sighed. Then he put on his jacket and sighed.

He was about to grab some coffee in his new mug – it had a spider kitty on it, a gift from Spidey – when Steve sighed.

‘Is everything okay?’

‘Just doing it for you so you can finally be out of the door.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘You’d sigh too if you had to go.’

‘No, I wouldn’t.’

‘… no, you wouldn’t because you love duty above all. Even pancakes.’

‘Not above all.’ There was a pause and Steve’s smile faltered a little. ‘Go do your job, soldier.’

He’d have to poke Steve later. He didn’t like Sad Steve, it was unnatural.

Plus, yes, he did want to know what did Captain America love more than duty. The flag? Apple pie? Too stereotypical, probably. Kids? Everything nice? Those were more likely. The Avengers? Probably wishful thinking.

‘Sure, sure, I will, Captain.’

 

Next time they redecorated SI’s headquarters, he was going to ask for bold, modern and avant-garde, because the pale grey carpet and the beige walls were doing nothing to distract him from the PR guy that kept droning on and on. Maybe he could build some PR robots – PRobots? -, since they never had anything innovative to say.

He idly considered some upgrades to the armor while he paid half his attention to the conversation. It was more than enough, considering he was a genius.

From what he understood between fancy jargon and buzzwords, there had been some brouhaha about some intern who was his ‘social media manager’. He had started some kind of Twitter war with other scientists with a half-baked conspiracy theory about pigeons, vampires, vampire-pigeons, aliens and the Golden Gate Bridge.

He sat up. ‘Pigeons? Really?’

'We think. It was a little unclear. According to the world’s most renowned engineers that aren’t you, there were mistaken calculations, wishful thinking, leaps of faith and, and I quote, a lot of bullshit.'

He winced. 'That’s really off-brand. How did you let that happen, anyway? Why did you pick this particular intern?'

'He said he knew you personally and had a background in science and experience with superheroes.’

‘Was that at least verified?’

The drones-in-suits nodded. ‘Yes. He had extensive documentation of all your previous encounters and a Ph.D. It… seemed like a good idea at the time, and Karl came highly recommended.’

Oh, that explained it. Probably his new employment program with rehabilitated former evil minions - he needed to discuss the details with the Foundation later. And probably fire the PR guy.

He sat up on his chair. This was more serious than he had thought. Tony’s public persona was, usually, an asset to the company. He couldn’t let it become a liability.

‘How much damage was done? What do you propose to do about it?’

There was much shifting in seats. ‘Well, your reputation has taken a hit, and we don’t think claiming Ultron hacked your account would work, so we hope we can put together a draft for a proposal about alternatives so that we…’

‘You have no idea.’

‘We have no idea.’

‘When I offloaded my social media presence to you, I hoped your expertise would prove helpful. Since it hasn’t, I’m taking this into my own hands.’

He took out his cell phone and downloaded the app. What was the worst that could happen?’

 

Sitting down comfortably in his office, he spent an hour or two browsing through his own Twitter and Instagram feeds. It was recon for his new mission – convince people the passionate wars about alien-pigeons and pineapple on pizza were a purposeful joke. If that didn’t work, maybe he could say it was a concussion. Iron Man got concussions all the time.

They weren’t that bad - he seemed like an approachable cool celebrity with some nerdy interests - but it needed some spice. Some spice that wasn’t, of course, arguments about whether or not burgers needed to be well-done or rare and the like. Karl had increased engagement by diving into debates that inspired a disproportional amount of passion.

He checked the rest of the Avengers’ as well. They were all following each other - sometimes his PR department wasn’t that incompetent.

Besides curiosity, he had to make sure to fit the tone. He was sure it wouldn’t be hard – they were probably all bland and corporate, ran by some intern who had made the wrong choice and picked English as a major.

Well, that wasn’t the case, at least for Giant-Girl’s. He suspected she was handling it herself because no intern would know about her latest gaming obsessions with that level of detail nor that level of spirited enthusiasm.

Spider-Man’s was a long string of pictures of himself, taken from improbable angles, with the occasional bad pun and retweetted Daily Bugle articles.

Storm’s was a long barrage of inspirational quotes that didn’t sound like her in the slightest. Logan’s… well, Logan’s accounts were all set to private. There was some history there he’d have to inquire about. The Hulk’s - Bruce had refused to have a social media presence, citing privacy concerns - was sporadic but amazing. There were just small sentences about the philosophy of smashing. ‘When in doubt, smash’ with the picture of a smashed cupcake.

Profound.

Steve’s, on the other hand, was probably the best of them all. A mix of outspoken political opinions - he was Captain America alright -, some idle thoughts that made him think that this particular intern was a stoner, and a lot of pictures of street art. Graffiti, interesting posters, ad campaigns, vandalized ad campaigns… If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was the real thing, but it was clear it was part of Stark Industries’ PR efforts because it also included a lot of pictures of Iron Man and ebullient commentary about Tony Stark’s genius, charisma, and azure blue eyes.

Okay, he had enough knowledge and it was now time to use his genius for good. With some trepidation, he made his first post.

Captain America’s like came almost immediately after.

‘I hope it’s the last one! ¬¬’

Well, that made it obvious this wasn’t the real Steve - the real Steve would know it was probably the fourth or fifth cup and that nothing, not even Captain America’s disappointed face, stood between Tony Stark and his coffee.

He checked Steve’s Instagram again - a picture of a cheddar burger. ‘Wish my buddy was here!’

That was interesting. So they knew about the burger… dates. Well, not dates. Just friendly one-on-one hangouts Tony liked to pretend were more than that.

Or maybe it wasn’t about him at all. It wasn’t as if Steve only ate burgers with Tony. It was probably some sort of sponsorship or corporate synergy SI was trying out. He liked the picture and went back to work, trying not to think about it.

 

When Tony remembered he had decided to update at least twice a day, it had already been 23 hours and he was elbow deep inside the armor and covered in grease. With a chuckle, he took a picture of his hand with a drill and some screws.

A few seconds after, there was a comment. It was Captain America’s and it said, very simply, ‘all lubed up and ready to screw’.

He re-read it. Yep. Still said that.

Okay, definitely not Steve. Steve wouldn’t be that forward in full view of the American public. Steve wouldn’t be that forward with him. They had to talk to the intern – children could be reading. Worried mothers as well. Maybe even some flustered grannies.

He locked the screen and turned back to his work. The good thing about the workshop was that it was locked, and he could indulge in the twin pleasures of tinkering and brooding with no disturbance. He looked forward to a beautiful, broody, uninterrupted night. Or morning. He wasn’t too sure of the time.

And because he had rotten luck, it wasn’t long before the doors to the workshop opened. He knew those footsteps so he didn’t even turn around to face the intruder, focusing instead on the guts of the armor.

'Didn’t I put up the brooding sign?'

Steve leaned against the worktable. 'You know I’d ignore it anyway. What are you building?'

'Hm. It’s an update, for the armor. The usual.'

Steve carefully poked the armor. 'That’s… a cupholder.'

He crossed his arms. He knew it wasn’t one of his best ideas but still, he had pride. 'It’s an innovation.'

Steve was trying not to laugh. That much was obvious. And annoying.

'Cupholder.'

'It’s very useful. Next time we go for a picnic, you can put your cup on it.'

'I’d rather stick with the grass, thank you.'

'That hurts, Steve. That you’d ignore my generosity just like that.'

Steve ignored him. It didn’t hurt, because he also put his arm around Tony’s shoulders. 'So if you’re making… such innovative plans… maybe we better go do something else.'

'But I’m…'

'Really bored.'

Looking at the sad excuse for a cupholder, Tony had to admit It was true.

'Aw, okay.'

They couldn’t think of anywhere to go so the first stop was the kitchen – Steve was hungry, like always –. They grabbed some popcorn. Movie night, laid-back but fun. And Tony would have an excuse to fall asleep on top of Steve, so it sounded like a great choice.

They walked back to the living room. It was empty because most of the Avengers had better things to do on a Saturday night. Tony didn’t get why they’d do that – spending time with Steve was the best. They sat down on the couches and picked a movie at random. Something silly, where they didn’t have to think.

It was some movie about an evil science terrorist terrorizing the world with science until a gang of plucky kids stopped him. The science, as usual, was all wrong, but maybe he could capitalize on that. Just one post or two about how bad it was and how unsound the engineering principles of the evil science were. And maybe some pointers about making explosions look cool and accurate. It would make people forget Karl’s Science Shenanigans if he posted about it, right?

'I’ve seen better movies,' he said, after Tweeting.

“But most of those better movies don’t include a talking camel driving a jeep,” Steve replied philosophically. If Tony had to be honest, the camel had been the best part. His name was Cameron the Camel and he was on the run from the mob that had killed all his family. Pathos and wisecracking, Kids probably loved him.

“Well, sometimes you’re right.”

Steve turned on his phone – he always, always turned it off because respect for the craft of cinema or something like that -. Tony pretended not to notice the way he chuckled at something on it.

 

It was, all things considered, quite addictive. People liked his posts - he was beating all the Avengers at their social media game. He had announced that, one night.

‘Oh, really? We’ll see, Iron Man, we’ll see,’ Spider-Man had said.

The next morning, he had woken up and found a giant poster in the kitchen that everybody updated with their followers. Giant Girl’s doing, apparently.

He had tried to update it to a new, modern, sleek screen that’d update in real time, but Steve had doodled cartoon versions of each Avengers on the poster and he just couldn’t take them down, especially the Logan. It had really angry eyebrows, and the real one would growl every time he went to the fridge.

It served him right and it was also hilarious.

He had posted a picture of it, and half an hour later, the Captain America account had posted a photo of a napkin. There was a tiny Iron Man on it, flying through the sky above a cartoony skyline. He smiled. Twitter Intern had Steve’s style down.

 

What started out as a coincidence and as Tony’s pathetic attempts at spending time with Steve had grown into somewhat of a tradition – just like Tony’s crush had. Steve would pick a movie and Tony would pretend to pay attention as he sunk into sleep. It was nice, but the best part was leaning on Steve.

He would always make a post about it afterward and Captain America’s account would always like it. Twitter Intern knew Steve’s routine, apparently.

 

He was really curious about Twitter Intern’s life, now that there was a caption of Grace Kelly with the rather unsubtle message of ‘HANG IN THERE - EVEN GRACE KELLY HAD TO PINE’. From Charade, apparently. They had watched that one the night before – there was a thief and Grace Kelly throwing herself on him as the thief tried not to go along.

He scoffed. If impossibly hot blondes were throwing himself at Tony, he would notice. He was sure of it.

It was interesting, however, how detailed the social media game was. He pictured Steve keeping the intern updated about his coming and goings. It seemed to fit, somehow. Steve was always very conscious of the need for PR even if he disliked it and complained about how honesty wasn’t enough anymore.

Did he send him a daily update? Or private messages? How did the intern pick what to post about?

For example, why did he post so much about his workouts with Tony or their movie nights? Probably some Stark Industries’ rule. Highlight Tony’s presence, always.

 

 

The battlefield was literally smoking. It had been a well-taken care of baseball field before and now it was littered with the parts of the robo-dino-vacuum that AIM had set loose on the city. It was emptying, at least, and clean-up could start soon. The kids of the neighborhood would be back at the field in no time.

It had been a good, efficient battle with teamwork going without a hitch. Routine enough that he had had time to check out Steve during it – the verdict was that Steve’s butt was as pert as ever, not that he ever doubted it.

Shaking his head, he took out his phone and posted a picture he had taken with the armor - a new function he was testing.

‘Already posting, Iron Man? Really?’ Spidey said, dropping a huge ball of robopart next to him.

Since he had done nothing wrong anyway, he didn’t dignify that with an answer.

Besides, Steve had liked his joke. And so had his Twitter Intern.

‘Aren’t you supposed to be helping out your team with clean-up?’ he heard at the same time somebody put another ball of roboparts next to him. He locked his phone screen and stared at his team. Did he look like a recycling bin or what?

‘Oh, shut up, Giant Girl. You’re just jealous of my followers’ count,’ he said.

‘No! Well, yes, but still, you’re addicted!’

He crossed his arms and stared at them sternly. Spidey was busy webbing all the balls together – that sounded dirty -, Logan was smirking and leaning against a tree and both Ororo and Giant Girl were staring at him from above.

He felt small, but he didn’t let that daunt him.

‘Not at all. It’s just a very useful tool to inform the public about villains in their vicinity.’

Logan snorted, but Ororo was the one to speak. ‘Is that why you posted a picture of your breakfast this morning? It was evil?’

‘No, it was delicious.’

Steve had cooked it, after all.

 

Okay. Twitter Intern was trying to kill him. Maybe he was an AIM plant because that was a very well done workout video of Steve. It was short but fulfilling. Good lighting that took full advantage of Steve’s dazzlingly white smile. Great close-ups of Steve’s calves. Truly an under-appreciated part of Steve’s body. He would have to stare harder at it even if it was hard to ignore things like Steve’s abs or his ass or his big, thick thighs or… He shook his head and looked back at the video.

Steve kept smiling as he led his audience through a beginner’s workout that was, actually, a beginner’s workout – so it couldn’t be Steve’s idea. Steve was very bad at adapting his workouts to non-super soldiers, In Tony’s experience. Their training sessions together usually led to Tony panting on the floor unable to move and Steve on top of him, grinning. His skin shining with sweat. His hands pinning Tony down by the wrists. His muscles bulging with effort. His bulge…

Damn. He had it bad.

He took another bite of his sundae and sighed very loudly, almost like some sort of old-fashioned theatre actress. He had it bad, yes, but he also had no chance because Steve had failed to notice. He was glued to his phone, like an old man’s caricature of a millennial. It had been a while since Tony had had Steve’s undivided attention.

He took out his, sighing, and checked his social media feeds. Captain America, the fake one, had liked and commented on basically all his new postings – even had said something about the sundae Steve was currently not eating.

He sighed again, this time rolling his eyes for good measure. Steve didn’t even blink.

‘Oh, look, it’s the Red Skull.’

No reaction. Who the hell was he even talking to? At least Twitter intern was insistent and entertaining. He was sending Tony PMs and linking him to cute stuff found all over the web.

He gave in and started checking the baby animal gifs. They were cute and they were almost good enough to ignore the sting of Steve’s attention wandering away. Maybe he had found somebody, somebody he was currently chatting to, instead of Tony.

He bit the inside of his cheek. It’s not like he hadn’t tried. He knew for a fact he was charming - you didn’t get voted the Most Eligible Avenger five years in a row if you weren’t, even if your competition was the Hulk - but Steve was not interested. Sure, they were friends and sure, Steve enjoyed spending time with him, but no matter what he did, how much he touched Steve, how much he shone his most dazzling smile at him, Steve remained oblivious.

Even if they looked at each other and electricity sparked between them, Steve liked him as a friend.

 

Really. No chance at all.

He spent the entire night almost cuddling with Steve with his hand over Steve’s knee and occasionally leaning towards him, but Steve kept being distracted by his phone. So Tony retaliated by aggressively checking his. Steve didn’t even notice.

So his strategies had all failed. What else could he do? Barge into the gym and confess he loved him? In order to get his heart properly broken?

No, he at least had his pride. And his Instagram buddy who didn’t mind if Tony PMed him at 3 AM in the morning.

‘Hey, how are you?’

Casual. Not pathetic, not ‘insomniac because my best friend is straight, just very physical with his affection’, just ‘hanging out in the workshop and not thinking about my BFF’.

‘I’m okay. What about you? You didn’t post tonight.’

Aw, Twitter Intern had noticed. That warmed his heart a little.

‘Yeah, had other things on my mind.’

There was a pause. Maybe even his Instagram buddy was going to drop him.

‘Can I ask?’

How could he explain without it sounding terrible? Tony Stark, unable to get into somebody’s pants. But at that moment, in that conversation, he wasn’t Tony Stark. He was just some lousy intern in charge of his media accounts. He was allowed to strike out with a guy.

‘Just a crush that went nowhere,’ he wrote, trying to sound as young as possible.

‘Oh. I know the feeling.’

Poor Twitter Intern. He wondered who had rejected him. He couldn’t figure out why somebody would - he was funny and from what Tony knew, a warm, caring person. That put him above 50% of humanity and above 100% of Tony’s exes.

‘It sucks, doesn’t it?’

Reassuring and not sad. A good friend talking to another good friend. It was all normal.

‘Yeah. There’s nothing you can do about it.’

No, there wasn’t. Steve simply didn’t want him and you couldn’t force somebody to like you. Steve would have to remain his friend and he would have to learn to… move on. Maybe even date other people. Not that anybody would be able to compare to Steve’s… Steveness, but it didn’t hurt to try.

Worst case scenario, he and whoever he chose would have fun and then part ways.

‘I guess. It sucks feeling so helpless.’

‘I know. That’s the worst part for me – it’s been years and he hasn’t noticed.’

Oh. A he. That was interesting.

‘Have you told him?’

‘Not directly.’

‘Maybe you should. You could be surprised.’

A tiny voice inside his head told him he was a hypocrite, but he shook his head. It was different with him. Twitter Intern probably wasn’t into Steve. Or maybe he was and he had fallen in love working for him?

‘It’s not a kind of surprise I’d enjoy. I don’t want to lose the friendship.’

‘Then there’s nothing you can do.’

‘I wish I could… move on, but I don’t think there’s an easy way.’

There wasn’t. Tony had tried, unsuccessfully, for years, and nothing had worked, but he couldn’t tell the intern that, not if he was some sad young guy who had had his first heartbreak. He could help, he knew it.

‘There is. How do you feel about a date?’

There was a pause. A pause that lasted hours and that Tony didn’t care to think about. He knew he was charming, but how much of it was his… body? Could he really be that charming through the internet?

Yes, yes he could. It was still using words and being witty and he knew Twitter Intern liked his jokes. He also knew the Intern was a guy. Probably younger. Hipper than Steve.

(But not better. Not better at all.)

Maybe it would be better if Twitter Intern said no. It wasn’t fair to rope him into his issues with Steve. Or maybe it’d help them both, to have one date with somebody who cared and was fun and they liked. It didn’t need to be serious.

He blocked the phone and tried not to think about it during the day.

And then the answer came. It was brief and short and endearing.

‘Yes.’

 

The sun was out in all its splendor and people were soaking it up. Kids were running around, there were clowns and mimes and pickpockets. A very fine afternoon for a date - maybe they could walk around or maybe eat some burgers.

He fiddled with his sunglasses and tried to calm down. There really was no possibility for embarrassment there. If it went down in the same exact same way most of Tony’s blind dates did, he could always say he was there in representation of his employee who’d be a non-existent coward. He hadn’t lied, not exactly, but he had never said he was the real Tony Stark. Maybe Twitter Intern would be angry about that. Maybe he was expecting somebody else. Somebody different.

He tugged the red carnation on his lapel and hid it in his pocket again. It wasn’t the first time he had done that several times.

A carnation. Twitter Intern had turned out to be old-fashioned and slightly over-dramatic, but he was enjoying the melodrama. Waiting for a stranger, in the middle of the park, half agony, and half hope.

It beat sighing after Steve, almost.

Steve, who was suddenly there, walking towards him with his distinct, determinate stride. He frowned. Was he seeing things? No, he wasn’t because Steve was now in front of him, looking surprised but still smiling.

He stood up and smiled back. He had to think of an excuse, quickly.

‘Well, Steve, fancy seeing you here,’ he said, trying to stall a little.

Steve blushed. That was weird.

‘Uh. Ah. Yeah. I was… jogging.’

‘In your favorite jeans?’

He loved those jeans. They clung to Steve’s ass like Tony would if he was allowed and it wasn’t illegal.

‘Ah. I was going to change.’

‘In the middle of the park? With children watching?’

‘Hm.’

Then he noticed the picnic basket – it was an actual straw one that looked old fashioned and like too much food for one person. His insides felt like acid.

‘Is your change of clothes inside your picnic basket?’

Before Steve could answer – and incidentally break Tony’s heart yet again -, there was some sort of really weird twittering noise. Steve’s mouth was hanging open and his eyes were fixed on something over Tony’s shoulder.

He turned around.

The sound came from… a bird. A large, blue bird with a bright yellow beak. Like something out of a Sesame Street local station knockoff.

It was laughing maniacally and it was then that Tony realized it was some weirdo _dressed_ as the Mardi Gras version of the Blue Bird of Happiness, his face hidden inside the beak.

Maybe it was a villain team with a zoo gimmick. Wouldn’t be the first time.

The weirdo put his arms on his waist and boomed: ‘Beware and hide your children because I am…. The Twitter!’

Well, that would explain the guy with the book on his face running towards to the Twitter. That was a terrible visual pun. Even Spider-Man would be embarrassed.

The running man stopped, raised his arms and stared at the crowd.

‘And the Facebook rides along with him! How are you feeling today?!’

From what Tony could tell, people in the park were ranging from ‘mildly embarrassed’ to ‘pretty amused’. He almost felt bad for the villains.

‘But fear the Mastodon most of all!’

He looked at the man dressed as a hairy elephant and tilted his head. ‘Mastodon? Did the Pachyderm Posse kick you out?’

‘No! Don’t you know about the… hm, microblogging platform that…?’

He waved his hand. ‘No, I don’t.’

‘But it is bound to disrupt the…’

‘Seriously. Don’t.’

Steve elbowed him before he started taking out the shield from his picnic basket.

‘Tony, let’s fight first and listen later.’

Of course, Steve was always a man of action. With a smirk, he called for the armor and took flight. He aimed at the Facebooker – even thinking the name was embarrassing – and shot.

Fighting those guys would be a waste of time, he thought, as he dove towards the Mastodon.

But then there was an intermittent, short, shrill sound that made everybody look at its point of origin, hypnotized.

It had been the Twitter and only Tony had managed to look away – Steve, instead, was looking pained. A sonic attack, probably. Steve always had a tough time with those.

He changed course and flew towards the blue bird, but this gave the Facebooker time to cover the crowd with a sticky, grey goo that looked way too fake and foamy. People, however, couldn’t free themselves of it because every time they moved, it grew thicker and thicker.

Mastodon slammed into Tony before he reached the Twitter. He seemed to be super-strong. Most basic of superpowers. Tony rolled away, stood up and then charged against the Mastodon. He put his arms around Mastodon’s waist, turned on his jet boots and pushed him against a tree.

Mastodon hit it tusks first and got stuck. That’d take care of him until the cops arrived.

The short sound stopped. Steve didn’t lose any time – with a wide swing, he managed to hit the Twitter with the shield. Without even looking at each other, they both charged at the Facebooker at the same time. He fell into a pile, unconscious.

The cops were there even before the Social Media Trio had been defeated. It was pretty routine and the fact that they hadn’t put up a fight bothered Tony.

“Do you think ‘Social Media Syndicate’ is the worst name we’ve encountered?”

Steve didn’t answer because he seemed to be busy scanning the crowd. Tony followed suit – maybe there was another villain on the prowl or maybe there was a problem brewing within the crowd.

Nothing looked to be a problem. People were still taking pictures but little by little they were leaving the site of the battle. The Police were chasing away stragglers and there had been no serious injuries. Even the foam had dissipated, leaving nothing but a sticky feeling behind.

It was about as clean a battle as they got, but Steve was still searching for something – or somebody – in the park. His shoulders were hunched and his brow was all furrowed. Tony knew the signs. That was a sullen Captain America.

In fact, it was a very sullen Captain America. The last time Tony had seen Steve look like that, it had been Logan’s fault.

‘Did Logan stand up for your frisbee playing date again?’

Oh, bringing that up hadn’t been a good idea. The pout was now a grimace and Steve crossed his arms across his chest. Tony was mesmerized for a moment – the biceps, the pecs straining under the shirt… It was so easy to be distracted.

Steve shook his head.

‘Not Logan.’

Spidey, then? Or maybe Storm? Tony usually had a vague idea of most Avengers’ schedules – and a very accurate one of Steve’s -. There was no training scheduled for that day. No outreach activity or even picnic.

And Steve was dressed… purposefully. Did Steve have a date? And he hadn’t told Tony? And then the lucky bastard had actually _stood Captain America up_?

Tony’s guts burned with hatred for the mysterious stranger. Who would pass a chance like that? It wasn’t just the Captain America side of things. Just plain ol’ Steve Rogers was the catch of two centuries.

And plain ol’ Steve Rogers was looking pretty down right now. He put his arms across Steve’s shoulders and tried for a casual and reassuring tone that ended up closer to a used cars’ salesman’s.

‘Oh. I’m sure that… your date had…’ he started. The words tasted like bile. ‘Well, I wouldn’t blame them if they did run. Most people aren’t used to supervillains. They get scared.’

Steve leaned closer and scoffed. ‘Scared? Of guys like that? Really?’

‘Well, you don’t know if a dramatic guy in a funny costume is Galactus or The Twitter until they attack. You can’t blame them for running away.’

Steve shrugged and said nothing, resolutely settling into sulkiness. He knew how stubborn Steve could be when he was like that. Their date didn’t deserve it.

His date, he remembered with a jolt. His still absent date. Steve wasn’t the only one there for a date but with nothing to show for it.

But he wasn’t blaming Twitter Intern. In fact, he was feeling bad because he had forgotten about him.

He had forgotten Twitter Intern because he was happier there, hugging a sulky Steve with no hope for nothing more than a friendship, than with anybody else. He would have to talk to Twitter Intern. Even if Steve was seeing somebody else… it wasn’t fair to Twitter Intern. He was using him to forget somebody else.

Maybe his crush would fade with time. He glanced over at Steve. The sun played in his golden hair and his profile was a work of art. Up close, he could see small expression lines, almost smoothed over by the healing factor, but still there, the proof of a life well-lived. Of happy days and worried nights Tony wished didn’t exist, because Tony hoped for nothing more than Steve’s happiness.

He didn’t want to get over him. Yes, it hurt every day but then Steve would smile at him across the breakfast table and his chest would be flooded with sunny, warm feelings. The highs were worth the lows. And Steve’s smile was worth the world.

When he spoke again, his smile was plaster and tasted like plastic.

‘Just text them. I’m sure they’ll be delighted to meet somewhere sunny and green but without the weirdos,’ he said, this time actually hitting casual.

‘Hm. I don’t know…’ Steve turned to Tony and smiled at him. ‘I’d rather just get some burgers. Do you want to join me? Unless you have something else to do.’

_Take that, mysterious stranger. One victory for Tony Stark._

‘I’d rather eat burgers with you than literally anything else.’

Steve laughed and finally got out of Tony’s embrace. The emptiness hurt.

‘Don’t lie to me, Tony Stark. I’m sure you have plenty of better things.’

Tony took out his phone and shook his head. ‘Not at all.’

It didn’t have to be scary. He had canceled plenty of dates before. Honesty was the best policy. It stung but avoided deeper hurts.

He hoped Twitter Intern wouldn’t feel bad - or that he had ditched Tony first. Maybe he had had the same epiphany Tony had. They both knew they weren’t each other’s first choice.

‘I just need to send a quick text and we can go if you want. The usual place?’

Steve nodded. Tony started to type a quick message – ‘sorry, can’t make it. Crush asked me out. Platonically. You know how it is.’

He pressed send and mentally crossed his fingers.

Steve’s phone ringed so he took it out of his pocket. First, he frowned, then his eyes widened. There was a moment where the world stood still and Tony feared for a second it was Morgan Le Fay or Loki again. Some emergency intruding in their lives again.

He looked at his phone again. No Avengers emergencies.

Twitter Intern had seen his apology, but he hadn’t replied. Was he angry? Tony would have to apologize later.

Then Steve turned to look at him.

‘So… were you here for a date too?’

How did Steve know?

‘Hm. To be honest, yes, I was. Blind date.’

‘Why aren’t you wearing the red carnation, then?’

Of course, Steve, old-fashioned as he was, would think like that. Just like Twitter Intern.  
…

Oh, damn. Oh, damn.

Steve knew. He _knew_. Because he… because he was Twitter Intern and that meant Tony had told _Steve_ about his crush. How pathetic was he? Steve now would be nice to be him, even as he rejected Tony. Would he be angry because Tony hadn’t said he was himself? He had lied. Steve hated lies.

He opened his arms, in open surrender. ‘This is embarrassing.’

Steve’s smile crumpled. ‘I’m… Did I misunderstand? I thought I was… your crush?’ Steve held his phone up. ‘You just said it.’

That wasn’t something he wanted to answer, not now, not ever.

‘Since when do you manage your own social media? Thought you were an old man.’

‘Since always. It’s under my name, I should control what they say. Better to be king of our silences…’

Good, Steve had taken the bait. And at the same time, he should have had expected it. Of course Steve would manage his accounts himself. He wasn’t irresponsible like Tony.

And he knew more about technology than he sometimes let Tony know. If he could handle his accounts, why did he get logged out of his laptop so often? He would show up in the workshop, with food as an offering and some banal, simple tech question Tony had answered a thousand times.

If it had been anybody other than Steve, Tony would have kicked them out the workshop but… He always ended up helping and then Steve would eat with him and they’d talk about their days. It was always nice.

But it turned out that actually… ‘Wait. So all this time looking at your phone, you were Instagramming or whatever?’

Steve chuckled. ‘You know, you haven’t answered my question.’

Oh, Steve hadn’t been fooled. He would have to drag out the moldy skeleton of his crush and parade it around so everybody could laugh at it. With a sigh, he sat on the grass and looked up, trying to look as pathetic as he could.

It was going to hurt.

‘I’m sorry, Steve, I know what a disappointment this must be.’

Slowly and deliberately, Steve knelt in front of him and put his hand on Tony’s shoulder.

‘Why would it be a disappointment?’ he asked, his voice thick with something Tony thought was sadness.

Why wasn’t his admission explanation enough? Did Steve want a detailed report of all Tony’s failings and all the reasons this was a bad idea?

Tony avoided Steve’s eyes and stared at the grass. One of his hands idly ripped the blades and threw them around, mechanically.

‘You know why. It’s just… me,’ he blurted out.

‘Of course it’s you. Who do you think I had a crush on?’

Tony looked up and met Steve’s eyes, who was now leaning towards him.

‘I don’t know. Storm?’

Steve’s hand on the top of his neck was a welcome touch, but the kiss that came after was even better. It was a fluttering kiss, a mere caress and then Steve put his forehead against Tony’s.

‘You’re an idiot, Tony Stark.’

He blushed. ‘Hey, you didn’t tell me either. It wasn’t just me.’

‘I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. You were never interested.’

‘Never interested? I’m pretty sure the scientists in Antarctica can track how much I want you. They probably even have graphs. I have asked you out so many times, really, Steve.’

Steve chuckled. Tony knew that one. It was the embarrassed one. The one when Steve burned the popcorn in the microwave or fell asleep on the couch.

‘I thought they were friendly dates.’

He grabbed Steve by the collar and forced their lips together. This kiss was… well, different. Of course Captain America’s kisses were like his moves in a fight – steady, straight-forward and entrancing.

‘Friendly date? I’ll show a friendly date, Rogers,’ he whispered against Steve’s lips. ‘You won’t be able to sit for a week.’

Steve’s stuttering answer made up for everything, even for the Facebooker’s foam getting into the armor’s crevices (and even worse, into _Tony’s_ crevices).

‘I… don’t make threats you can’t back, Stark.’

There was a dangerous shine in Steve’s eyes. It was new. It was exciting. Steve stood up and offered his hand to Tony.

He took it.

Okay. It was happening. That was Steve. They had kissed. They apparently liked-liked each other. His chest was bursting with warmth.

‘Wait,’ Tony said and took out his phone again. ‘Come here.’

Steve put his arm over Tony’s shoulders and brought him closer, staring at the camera with a wide grin. Tony pressed the button and kissed Steve’s cheek at the same time.

He had had better pictures, but Steve looked stunning. An almost confused smile, his hair mussed, a blush across cheeks. He glanced at Steve, who just nodded.

He put a heart sticker on it and posted it.

Their followers were going to go crazy.


End file.
